The Girl Dressed in Black
by The Sherlock Holmes
Summary: A girl arrives at 221b, giving Sherlock a new case and forcing him to confront the problems of his past.
1. Chapter 1

"Freak!"

Sherlock awoke, startled from the nightmare. Constantly replaying what everyone has said to him. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was 4:00 am. Unable to sleep, Sherlock creeps into the living room, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboards. He picks up his violin and begins to play. The sound vibrating through the flat, calming his mind.

The sun was glaring brightly through the windows. Sherlock had continued to play until sunrise, unable to shake his frustration.

"Morning." Said John

No response.

"Breakfast?"

No response.

"I'll take that as a no." Said John, preceding into the kitchen for tea and breakfast. As the kettle boiled, John returned to the living room.

"Any cases?"

"No."

"Anything wrong Sherlock? You seem... distracted." said John handing Sherlock his cup of tea.

"Just fine."

"Alright."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get that." Said John to go down to the door.

Sherlock heard muffled voices downstairs, and then the creak of the stairs as two people walked up to the flat. It sounded like a light step besides the heavy thud of Johns shoes.

"Sherlock, we have a case."

A teenage girl stood besides the door. She was dressed in a black jumper, jeans, and black boots. Her hair was long and was tied back into a messy ponytail.

"A jumper in summer?" said Sherlock

The girl looked down at her feet, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Sherlock, she doesn't have anywhere to live, her parents died and she doesn't have anywhere to go-" said John

"What was it today Anne, morphine or cocaine?" said Sherlock

"You know her?" said John "How could you possibly?"

"I knew her parents." said Sherlock

"I'm clean, and can I stay with you for a bit?" said Anne

"You can stay, I'll talk to him. Let me show you upstairs, while I talk to _him."_ said John before leading Anne to her room.

After showing Anne her room, John walked over to Sherlock, who was still staring out the window.

"How did you know her?"

"I told you, I knew her parents. Please keep up."

"And her drug problem, she apparently has?"

"I was testing her, she's clean but she hasn't been for long."

"Sherlock, she says she thinks her parents aren't dead, and that they are after her. Would you happen to know anything about this, since you're such old friends?"

"She'll stay here and I'll help her." said Sherlock

"Good." said Anne reappearing at the door, tears streaking her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Anne stood in the doorway, her face streaked with tears. She looked around the flat before her eyes fell on the violin.

"Play the violin?" asked Anne

"Yes. Come sit and tell us what has happened." said Sherlock

"Here's a cup of tea." said John handing Anne the mug.

"Thank you."

Anne sat on the sofa, wiped away her tears, gathered her thoughts, and slowly exhaled.

"It began last year. My parents had begun acting strangely. They would often be gone for long periods of time on end and they were always on their last nerves. One night, dad rang me and said he loved me very much and that everything was fine now and I was safe." Anne paused to overcome the wave of emotion that hot her. John came over to comfort her and held her hand gently. "Then I heard two gunshots and the line went dead."

"Then I was contacted to help identify some bodies that may have been my parents. The bodies were definitely my parents, shot staight through the head and so I thought until recently."

"And What is it that makes you suspect your parents are not dead?" asked Sherlock

"Well, I got a call from a number that I didn't know and I was told my parents hadn't died but had staged the whole thing to-" Anne broke down in tears. John held her hand more tightly and tried to further calm her,

"It's all right." said John wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze.

"The man on the phone said they staged the whole thing to get rid of me." said Anne deliberately

"This man, what did he sound like?" asked Sherlock

"I don't remember, I was shocked by what he said." said Anne through the stream of tears

"And the number, do you remember it?" asked Sherlock

"No." said Anne

"Did the man say anything else?"

"No, but after he said that I heard my parents say the same thing, I heard their voices." said Anne

Sherlock steepled his hands and leaned back in the black leather chair.

"He's thinking." explained John "He'll be like that for a while, Can I get you anything to eat or some more tea?"

"No but thank you for everything." said Anne

"It is no problem, just make yourself at home, and let me know what I can do for you okay?"

"Alright, thank you." said Anne who then lay back on the sofa and watched Sherlock Holmes think.

000

Sherlock had been thinking for an hour and finally came out of his reverie.

"Why did you tell John you knew my parents?" asked Anne

"He doesn't need to know everything about my past or how I know you for that matter." said Sherlock

"I suppose."

"Can you tell me what your parents looked like?"

"Yes well, my father was an Irish man, brown hair, brown eyes, medium height. My mother was tall, brown hair, greeneyes. That doesn't really help though. Sorry."

"No not very descriptive. I need details. Did your father use and styling product in his hair, did you mother paint her nails?"

"Yes actually father put product in his hair. It was always perfectly styled and my mother-" Anne was cutoff when John returned from work.

"How are you getting along?" asked John

"Splendidly!" said Anne

"Solved the case yet Sherlock?" asked John

"Got anything but jumpers to wear?" Retorted Sherlock

Anne laughed at the remark.

"Don't laugh at that!" said John

"Do you have anything but jumpers?" asked Anne

"Of course. Do you want Chinese takeout for dinner?" asked John

"Sure sounds good." said Anne

"Sherlockbro you want any?" asked John

"Yes, the usual." said Sherlock

They ate while watching telly.

"Does he always correct the Telly?" asked Anne

"Yes, always." said John


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock. All following ideas and themes are property of Mark Gatiss, Stephen Moffat, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

* * *

"Bored!"

Anne heard Sherlock shout from the living room. She jumped at the sound of a gun shot following the outburst.

"Bored! Bored!" shouted Sherlock followed by two more gun shots.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Anne heard John yell as he ran up the stairs returning from work.

"Bored." said Sherlock languidly

"What?" asked John

"Bored! Bored!" shouted Sherlock again.

Anne came downstairs, listening to the impending argument.

"Its primary school stuff. How can you not know that?" asked John

"Listen. This is my hard drive and it only makes sense to put in what is useful, really useful." said Sherlock, Anne had to agree with his logic, mainly because she hated the repitition of idiot school teachers who drummed the order of the planets into her head.

"Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish. That makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters, do you see?" said Sherlock "All that matters to me is the work, with out that my brain rots. Put that in your blog, or better yet, stop inflicting your opinions on the world!"

John got up and turned to finally see Anne standing my the door.

"He's a mess at the moment. I'm going to Sarah's. Do you want to come?" asked John in a whisper.

"No, I'll stay." said Anne

"All right then." said John heading out the door.

"Where are going?" asked Sherlock, awkwardly turning his head.

"Out, I need some air." said John as Mrs. Hudson came in

"You sure Anne?" asked John

"Positive." said Anne

"Had a little domestic?" asked Mrs. Hudson coming in as John slammed the front door.

Sherlock got up, stepped right over the coffee table and walked over to the window.

"Calm, quiet, peaceful. Isn't hateful?" said Sherlock. Anne was quite sure Sherlock was the only person to ever say that.

"I'm sure something will come up Sherlock." said Mrs. Hudson, putting up the groceries "A nice murder, that'll cheer you up."

"Can't come too soon." muttered Sherlock

"Do make sure he's alright dear." said Mrs. Hudson to Anne as she walked out

"Don't worry, I'll cheer him up." said Anne with a smile.

Anne walked over to Sherlock and put her arm around his waist. She looked at the newly demolished wall with the yellow smiley face painted on it.

"You like it don't you? The smiley face. You painted it with the paint from your last case, sort of a reminder to always protect John. You're upset, so you shot it. See, I can be Sherlock too." said Anne

Sherlock smiled down at her and wrapped his long arm tentatively around her shoulders.

"We'll see about that." said Sherlock "Than-"

Sherlock was interrupted by an explosion that blew them clear across the room and destroyed the windows.

* * *

"Aghh" said Anne as she tried to sit up, only to fall back and hit her head on the wood floor.

"Anne? Are you alright?" asked Sherlock

"Are explosions a regular occurrence here?" asked Anne sarcastically

"Good, you're alright. Can you stand?" asked Sherlock getting to his feet

"Give me a hand." said Anne, Sherlock extended his hand, Anne grabbed on tightly and pulled herself up "With a little help from my friends."

"I'll get the first aid kit." said Sherlock disappearing into the kitchen and reappeared a minute later with the kit. "Alright, do you feel any serious injuries?"

"No, just some scrapes. Here on my shoulders." said Anne

Sherlock bandaged her up and began to clean up the flat with her help. After cleaning up the flat, they were questioned my the police and learned it had been a gas explosion across the street. After the police had left Anne and Sherlock watched crap telly and afterwards Sherlock played the violin much to Anne's delight.

She had only been at Baker Street for a day, but already she knew she was at home. She looked around the flat that was currently in a state of dishevelment. She smiled at the demolish wall, the messy bookshelves, and the look of Sherlock as he played the violin. She was overwhelmed with the new feeling of contentment that she hadn't experienced in a very long time. Sherlock began to play the Beatles song "With a little help from my friends".

"So, you got the reference?" asked Anne

"I do keep some rubbish facts in my mind palace." said Sherlock smiling as he began to sing the lyrics along with Anne. Afterwards they burst into laughter.

"Make the best of a bad situation." said Anne

"Who said this was a bad situation?" asked Sherlock "I have a feeling that the game is on!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer- The Game is On! That line is property of Mark Gatiss and Stephen Moffat, as are the following ideas, themes, storylines, quotes, etc. I wish I owned Sherlock but I don't. Oh well...**

* * *

"So brother mine, will you take the case? It is a matter of national importance." Anne heard a prim, proper, silky voice coming from the living room.

"I'm too busy Mycroft." said Sherlock "Ah, Anne! This is my dear brother Mycroft."

"Pleasure." said Mycroft extending his hand.

"I do believe the socially acceptable response is 'the pleasure is mine' but it doesn't seem really appropriate." said Anne shaking Mycrofts hand.

"She's picking up your habits Sherlock." said Mycroft "So the case, it is of national importance."

"Sherlock! Anne! Are you alright?" shouted John as he ran up the stairs. "I saw it on the news, are you alright?"

"Just fine." said Sherlock "How was the li-low?"

"The couch Sherlock." said Mycroft

"Obviously." said Anne sarcastically

"I'm not even going to ask." said John

"John, perhaps you can talk some sense into Sherlock. Seeing as he prides your opinion so highly." said Mycroft as he stood up and picked up his umbrella, "Pleasure to finally meet you Anne." and he walked out the door.

"Was he alright?" asked John

"Oh we had a marvelous time." said Anne, "He's good as new!"

"Wish we had you around sooner!" said John

"Well, I'm not leaving any time soon." said Anne

"I should hope not." said Sherlock

John stared at Sherlock in shock at his remark.

"I can be a nice person, don't look so surprised." said Sherlock not even looking up from his phone, it rang only moments later.

"Sherlock Holmes. Yes, I'll be there." said Sherlock before momentarily hanging up. "Lestrade needs us. He says there's a package for me." Sherlock got up, gently set down his violin and grabbed his coat before practically running down the stairs. When John and Anne had got downstairs, Sherlock had hailed a cab and was waiting for them with the cab door open. They got in and drove to Scotland Yard.

They arrived at Scotland Yard very shortly. Sherlock paid the cabbie and led them into the building. They made it to the second floor, before being interrupted.

"Hello freak." said Donovan

"Hello Donovan. You smell nice, that deodorant is for men, isn't it?" said Sherlock with a smirk before continuing into an office.

"Hello Lestrade. Where is this package for me?" asked Sherlock

"Here it is." said Lestrade handing Sherlock a Manila envelope, "And who is your companion?"

"The name's Anne." said Anne

"Hello Anne. How are you in association with Sherlock?" asked Lestrade

"She's staying with us." said Sherlock "Have you x-rayed the envelope?"

"Yes, there are no booby traps in it." replied Lestrade

Sherlock opened the envelope carefully and reached inside. He pulled out a pink phone.

"A woman's hand writing." said Sherlock looking at the writing on the envelope

"That phone, it's the one from the Study in Pink." said Lestrade

"No, it's made to look like it." said Sherlock "Wait, you read his blog?"

"Yes everyone here does." said Lestrade "Do you really not know that the earth goes around the sun?"

Sherlock ignored the comment and turned on the phone. There was one message on it. The message was five beeps.

"Five beeps. It's a message, a warning. People used to send melon seeds, pips, things like that. Five pips." explained Sherlock as he continued to look at the phone. He found a picture on the phone. "I know where this is." said Sherlock before heading out of the office, with John and Anne following swiftly behind.

Sherlock had once again hailed a cab and got in.

"Baker Street." said Sherlock to the cabbie.

* * *

"Mrs. Hudson!" shouted Sherlock "Can you get the key to 221C?"

"You looked at that flat didn't you, when you wanted to move in. It's still empty, no one wants to rent it. I lived in a flat like it when I was younger." Mrs. Hudson was cut off as Sherlock, Lestrade, John, and Anne went into the flat, closing the door behind them.

In the middle of the dilapidated flat was a pair of trainers.

"He's a bomber remember Sherlock?" warned John as Sherlock approached the trainers.

Sherlock crouched down to examine the trainers only to be interrupted by the loud ringing of the pink phone. Sherlock got up and answered it.

"Hello, Sexy." said a shaky voice at the other end. Anne grabbed John hand, suddenly frightened by the sound of fear in the voice.

"Who is this?" asked Sherlock quietly

"I've sent you a little puzzle...Just to say...hi."

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" asked Sherlock strongly

"I'm not crying...I'm typing and this...stupid bitch is... reading it out." the crying voice continued

"The curtain rises." muttered Sherlock

"What?" asked John

"Um, nothing." said Sherlock

"No, what did you mean?" asked John

"I've been expecting this for some time." said Sherlock before glancing at Anne

"Twelve...Hours...To solve my puzzle...Or I'm going to be so...naughty." the voice said, then the line went dead. Anne clung tighter to John.

"Sherlock, what's going to happen?" asked Anne fighting back tears

"Don't worry, I'll solve it." said Sherlock "Anne, how about you make some tea for us?"

Anne went upstairs and at Sherlocks command Lestrade followed her.

"Alright, John, Anne is in danger from who ever is doing this. I have a feeling it's Moriarty. We need to stay with her at all times." said Sherlock

"We'll make sure she's safe." said John "But how do we stop who's doing this?"

"Solve the puzzles and prevent a boom." said Sherlock before putting a smile on his face and going into the flat.


	5. Chapter 5

Anne walked up the stairs and went to the kitchen. Her mind was reeling with the possibilities the case presented and thought through how to prepare for every situation that may occur. She began pouring water into the kettle, only realizing she had over filled it when the feeling of water running over her hand jerked her from her thoughts.

"You alright Anne? I know this is probably overwhelming, you just having moved in with Sherlock and Johnand then you get thrown into this." said Lestrade

"Oh, um, just fine." said Anne turning the kettle on to boil

John walked into the flat and strode into the kitchen.

"Hey, how are you?" asked John

"I'm just fine, a bit overwhelmed with all of this, but I'm sure Sherlock has already got it all figured out." said Anne

"Ok, you can talk to either one of us, if you ever need." said John

"Thanks." said Anne, "How do you take your tea?"

"Milk, no sugar." said John, "Sherlock takes two sugars."

"He always did have two sugars." said Anne handing John his mug and walking into the living room with Sherlocks, "Lestrade, how do you take your tea?" Anne put Sherlocks mug beside him, noticing he was thinking.

"I'm just going, thanks though." said Lestrade

"All right then. It was nice meeting you." said Anne

"You too." said Lestrade, "John, is Anne going to be safe?" he whispered

"Sherlock says she isn't connected with the cas and shouldn't become involved." said John

"All right, nice seeing you." said Lestrade as he walked out.

Sherlock came out of his concentrated thinking and smiled over at Anne.

"Carl Powers." said Sherlock as he ran downstairs his coat flying behind him.

"He's onto something lets go." said John running out after Sherlock.

* * *

"Sherlock, I've got eight texts from Mycroft. It must be important." said John

"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?" asked Sherlock

"How did you-" Anne was cutoff as Sherlock explained

"Mycroft never texts if he can talk. Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them, and got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this: Why is my brother so determined to bore me when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting."

"Try and remember there's a woman's who might die here, Sherlock." said John

"What for?" retorted Sherlock "This hospitals full of people dying, Doctor. Why don't you go and cry by their bedside and see what good it does then?"

"Anne, you haven't eaten all day. Why don't you go and get some crisps for us?" asked John trying to remain calm

"Um, yeah, sure. Sherlock, want anything? A soda perhaps?" asked Anne

"No." said Sherlock strongly

"I'll be back in a bit then." said Anne, after giving Sherlock a wink, she was out the door.

* * *

The downstairs door was opening and Sherlock heard Anne's foot steps on the stairs.

 _Damn it!_ Sherlock thought quickly gathering up the small bag of powder on the table and shoved it in his pocket, then cleared away the other small bottles away into his coat pockets, before leaning back in his thinking pose.

"Sherl? How was your day?" asked Anne her voice slightly slurred as she walked into the living room.

"Thinking." said Sherlock

"Nope, nopity, nope, nope!" said Anne walking over to the couch and sitting on the table in front of Sherlock.

"Anne what the hell did you do?" asked Sherlock

"You know, I could say the same damn thing." said Anne reaching for his coat

"You are twelve. I am twenty." said Sherlock

"Who cares?" asked Anne

"I care." said Sherlock

"Sure." said Anne sarcastically

"I'm being honest you know." said Sherlock

"Whatever, but listen Sherl, how 'bout we have a code word?" asked Anne changing the subject

"For what?" asked Sherlock

"For times like this. When we are in trouble." said Anne

"Reasonable enough. We do need something like that I suppose." said Sherlock after thinking for a minute.

"How 'bout 'Soda'?" asked Anne "I mean we both hate it, just like we hate help."

"Alright, fine." said Sherlock

"Good." said Anne closing her eyes "Soda." then she collapsed onto the floor.

 **Just so you know that last scene was a flashback, I wasn't sure how to make that clear. How should I indicate that? Thanks for reading, I'm really enjoying writing this! -SH**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any way.**

 **Thank you all for your lovely reviews and thank you for following and liking!**

* * *

"Whatever, but listen Sherl, how 'bout we have a code word?" asked Anne changing the subject

"For what?" asked Sherlock

"For times like this. When we are in trouble." said Anne

"Reasonable enough. We do need something like that I suppose." said Sherlock after thinking for a minute.

"How 'bout 'Soda'?" asked Anne "I mean we both hate it, just like we hate help."

"Alright, fine." said Sherlock

"Good." said Anne closing her eyes "Soda." then she collapsed onto the floor.

"Anne! Anne!" said Sherlock patting her face with his hands "What the hell did you do?"

Her eyes fluttered open, her eyes glazed.

"What did you do?" asked Sherlock sharply

"Nothin'." said Anne

"Right." said Sherlock sarcastically, "What was it?"

"Alcohol." said Anne apprehensively

"What else?" asked Sherlock

"Drugs." said Anne

"My god." said Sherlock "What was it? What did you take?"

"Same as you." said Anne

* * *

The opening of the door to the lab jerked Sherlock from his thoughts. He continued to study the slides in the microscope as he heard someone else come in a few seconds later.

"Oh, hello, everyone this is Jim." said Molly, "Come in, come in! Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes!"

"Ah!" exclaimed Jim, a bit too joyfully

"And, uh, sorry." said Molly trying to remember the name of Sherlocks companion

"John Watson. Hi." said John

"Hi." said Jim "So, you're Sherlock Holmes. Mollys told me all about you. So, are you on one of your cases?"

"Jim works in an IT upstairs. That's how we met, office romance!" said Molly grinning at Jim

Sherlocks curiosity got the better of him and he turned around to look at Jim.

"Gay." said Sherlock, then he realized he had said his deduction aloud.

"Sorry, what?" asked Molly flustered

 _Better fix this, idiot!_

"Um, nothing, hey." said Sherlock trying to fix his mistake

"Hey." replied Jim before bumping into the table, causing a bowl to clatter to the floor, "Sorry, sorry!"

"Well I'd better be off." said Jim walking around to Molly "See you at the Fox. Around six-ish?"

"Yeah." replied Molly grinning

"Bye." said Jim

"Bye." replied Molly hugging Jim

"Nice to meet you." continued Jim awkwardly

 _It wasn't nice to meet you. You're going to hurt Molly._

Sherlock continued to look into the microscope.

"Nice to meet you too." said John filling in for Sherlock.

Jim finally left, leaving Molly flustered and angry.

"What do you mean gay? We're together." said Molly looking Sherlock straight in the eye

"And domestic bliss suits you Molly. You've put on three pounds since I last saw you." said Sherlock trying to find a way to calm Molly, but successfully making it worse whilst trying to think.

"Two and a half." said Molly defensively

"No, three." replied Sherlock

"Sherlock..." muttered Johnin warning

"He's not gay! Why do you have to spoil... he's not!" Molly was close to tears

"With that level of personal grooming?" asked Sherlock

"Sherlock, we're in the middle of the case, we have a time limit. It's not a time for deductions." said Anne

"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair!" protested John

"No, you wash your hair, there's a difference." replied Sherlock, intent on continuing his deduction of Jim, "No, no. Tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines, those tired clubber's eyes. Then there's his underwear."

"His underwear?" asked Molly exasperated

"Visible around the waistline- very visible. Very particular brand. That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his phone number under this dish here." Sherlock lifted the dish to show the card to Molly, "I'd say you try to break it off right now and save yourself the pain."

Molly whirled around the hurt and tears visible to Anne and rushed out of the lab.

"Sherlock, I know you were trying to help, but that was not the way to go about it." said Anne

"Wasn't it kinder to tell her and let her break it off?" asked Sherlock

"No Sherlock, that, that was not kind." said John

"Well, she'll come to her senses eventually." said Sherlock

"You think what you want. Is anyone going to tell me who you're talking about?" asked Anne

"His name was Jim and he was Irish." said Sherlock

Anne laughed Sherlocks reply, following his logic and seeing those were the only pieces of information not supplied to her.

"That clears it up." said Anne sarcastically

"Not really." said Sherlock returning to look into his microscope, not wanting to continue the conversation.


	7. Chapter 7

After returning to Baker Street Sherlock had set about separating one of the shoes. He was clipping the parts on a clothes line strung across the kitchen.

"I see you still haven kicked your old habits." said Sherlock conversationally

"That isn't true because a: It's not an issue at the moment and b: I don't want to talk about it." said Anne "So, I see you're an expert at separating shoes." Sherlock was wrestling, trying to get the sole out of the trainer, "Have you worked out the solar system yet?"

"No one seems to understand that it's an arbitrary fact. If I need it I can simply look it up, or for that matter, I can ask someone, anyone!" said Sherlock

"No I understand. It's just still so funny!" said Anne, she now had tears in her eyes from laughing

"Will you do _something_ productive?" asked Sherlock

"Sure, what can I help you with?" asked Anne knowing it was a dead-end

"Can't help me with anything. You know that." said Sherlock

"Alright I'll do it for myself and help you along the way. How about some tea?" asked Anne

"Sure." said Sherlock

* * *

Sherlock was checking Anne's pulse, after moving her to the sofa.

"Anne, stay with me." said Sherlock patting her cheek again

"Yeah, yeah. Hello." replied Anne sarcastically "No need to get all dramatic. I was careful."

"Obviously not careful enough." said Sherlock "Could you open your eyes?"

"I have a feeling that's a rhetorical question." said Anne opening her eyes slightly

"All the way." said Sherlock, looking at her eyes he saw her pupils were extremely dilated

"Now that you really know, can we get on with this evening?" asked Anne

"You just lay there. I'm getting you a glass of water." said Sherlock walking to the kitchen to get her water

"I'm not an invalid." said Anne

"You just collapsed. I'd say you're in no state to walk at the moment." said Sherlock handing her the water and watching her gulp it down, "Now, give it to me."

"Why so you can use it?" asked Anne angrily

"So that you don't." said Sherlock, "Unfortunately I unable to avoid the cliche, but you're grounded."

"Oh, please do stop acting like a parent. It doesn't suit you. I'd also recommend you sit here next to me and rest." said Anne pointing to the floor next to the couch

Sherlock sat down on the floor, leaned against the table and rolled up his sleeves. He showed them to Anne, then extended his hand.

"Give them now." said Sherlock

She reached into her back pocket and handed him a packet of white powder.

"Now the rest." said Sherlock, "In case you don't remember it's in the front left pocket."

She handed him the packet, which he put in the pocket of his dressing gown.

"You will now detox from these." said Sherlock pulling the packets back out, "I will oversee it and care for you during the process." said Sherlock carefully putting the packets back in his pocket

"You care for someone? Sherlock Holmes caring for another person? You can't even care for yourself!" said Anne coldly

"Most of the time people care about others more than themselves." said Sherlock

"I'm hungry." said Anne changing the subject

"I'll get us some tea, then make some dinner." said Sherlock getting up from the floor and picking up his coat from the end of the couch and hanging it on the coat rack, before going to boil the kettle.

* * *

"Here you go two sugars, like the old days." said Anne, "Hasn't changed has it?"

"I'm afraid not." said Sherlock

* * *

 **Shorter chapter sorry. I just liked that ending. I'm aware that I write commonly in speech (characters mainly conversing) and I was wondering if you would like it to be more descriptive or if you like this style. Thank you ever so much for reading. -TSH**


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock deposited the packets on white powder into the false bottom of the drawer in the desk in his room. He returned to the kitchen just as the kettle shrieked through the flat and he made tea for Anne and himself.

"Here you go." Sherlock handed Anne her mug of tea.

"I already feel awful." said Anne rolling on her back to look at Sherlock.

"It gets worse." said Sherlock

"That's comforting." said Anne

Sherlock turned to walk back into the kitchen and prepare dinner. He put bread in the the toaster and began to make fried eggs, knowing it was Anne's favorite. He was mentally preparing for the onset of withdraw that Anne would begin to suffer in only a short while. He made sure he had ibuprofen on hand and went back into the living room to check on Anne.

"Here's some ibuprofen to help with the pain and I'm making your favorite, fried eggs and toast." said Sherlock handing Anne the medicine

"Thanks." said Anne lifting the medicine to her mouth with a shaky hand

"Shakes already coming on. Do you feel the urge to expel the contents of your stomach?" asked Sherlock

"If you keep talking like that, yes." said Anne

"I'll get a bucket." said Sherlock going back into the kitchen to check on dinner and to get a pan. He put the eggs and toast on plates and carried it into the living room with the pan.

"Here's your dinner. Try and eat a bit." said Sherlock

Anne sat up and began to eat the eggs. She managed a few bites before she felt a wave of nausea grip hold of her, forcing her to lay back on the couch.

"You alright?" asked Sherlock

"Fine." said Anne

"Its worth it. I promise." said Sherlock

"I don't think you're the poster boy for this issue." said Anne

Sherlock returned to the book he was reading, trying to block out the thoughts that were plaguing his mind.

* * *

"Clostridium botulinum!" exclaimed Sherlock looking up from his microscope

"What is it Sherlock?" asked Anne who was sitting across the table reading a book

"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet. Carl Powers!" said Sherlock

"Wait, are you saying he was murdered?" asked John having come into the kitchen when he heard Sherlock exclamation

"Remeber his shoelaces?" asked Sherlock walking over to the shoelaces hanging on the clothes line, "The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later, he comes to London, the poison takes effect, paralyzes the muscles, and he drowns."

"What, but how come the autopsy didn't pick that up?" asked John

"It's virtually undetectable and nobody would have been looking for it." said Sherlock before rushing into the living room and typing something into his computer, "But there were still tiny traces of it left inside of the trainers from where he'd put the cream on his feet. That's why they had to go."

"So how do we let the bomber know?" asked John

"Get his attention." Sherlock looked at his watch, "Stop the clock."

"The killer kept the shoes all these years." said John

"Yes. Meaning..." said Sherlock looking at Anne

"He's our bomber." said Anne finishing his sentence.

The phone rang on the table and Sherlock picked it up and answered it.

"Well done you...Come and...get me." said the woman on the phone

"Where are you? Tell us where you are." said Sherlock

The woman told him her location and John immediately phoned Lestrade to tell him her location.

"One down, four to go." said Anne

* * *

"Anne you haven't eaten all day. What do you want for dinner?" asked John later that evening

"It's a bit odd but I would love to have an egg and toast." said Anne

This caused Sherlock to smirk behind his laptop screen.

 _Anne hasn't changed in bit. Why would she?_

"I'll whip it right up then." said John smiling back at Anne

"Thanks," said Anne, then lowered her voice, "Make some for Sherlock too."

"He never eats. Why would he want eggs and toast?" asked John

"I asked him what his favorite meal was the other day." said Anne remember Sherlocks reluctance to tell Johnthe truth.

"Alright then." said John going into the kitchen.

"Nice going." said Sherlock smirking at Anne

"I know." replied Anne

* * *

 _Come on Anne. You can eat this. John made it specially for you. It's your favorite, remember? Just a few bites. No! Idiot! No eggs, no bread! Too many calories, carbs... Anne, calm down. Take a bite. Just one._

"You alright Anne?" asked John noticing her pained expression.

"Oh fine! Just wonderful in fact!" Anne smiled at John, "Thanks for making it, it looks absolutely delicious!"

"It's no problem," said John, "Honestly I'm glad you finally got him to eat." John looked over at Sherlock with amusement.

"Quid pro quo and all." said Anne taking a bite of her dinner while she was mentally distracted, "It's delicious. You're a good cook."

"I was taught more than a few things in the army." said John

Anne laughed and continued to eat. Anne managed to eat the egg and half the piece of toast. She carried the plate back to the kitchen being careful not to let John or Sherlock see. She put the rest of the food in the garbage before going back into the living room.

"Fancy a game of operation Anne?" asked Sherlock

"Sure." said Anne

Sherlock stood up on his armchair and pulled the game down from the top shelf of the bookcase.

"Care to play John?" asked Sherlock

"I have an unfair advantage." said John

"I think I could use a challenge." said Sherlock setting up the game on the coffee table.

"Who goes first?" asked Anne

"How about youngest goes first?" suggested John

"Alright." said Anne picking up the tweezers and choosing a card, "Funny bone." She pulled it out easily and handed the tweezers to Sherlock. "Your go."

Sherlock picked 'spare ribs' and was alarmed by the buzzing alerting him that he had failed.

"Your go John. Let's see what the doctor can do." said Sherlock

John picked 'bread basket' and pulled it out with a flourish.

"You are a good doctor." remarked Sherlock

The game continued on with jabs at each other when they messed up and cheers when they succeeded. The first game ended with John as the winner and by the end of the evening they had played twenty games with John winning the majority and with Sherlock the overall loser much to his disappointment.

"Good game John." said Anne, then with mock challenge, "I hope we can settle this with a standoff one day."

"I'll always win." said John jokingly

"As much as I am enjoying this mindless chatter, we do have a case that we must work on. Anne, get some rest." said Sherlock

Anne came over to Sherlock where he was sitting in his chair.

"Goodnight Sherlock," said Anne leaning over to give him a hug and whispered in his ear, "Being a parent doesn't suit you at all."

Then Anne went to hug John before going upstairs and closing the door to her new room. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table and pulled out the fake book from the bookshelf that contained her secret stash, only to find that it was empty.

"It's you. It's always you. Sherlock Holmes, you keep me right." whispered Anne, then drifted off to sleep to the sound of violin music that floated through the flat.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a knock on Anne's bedroom door. She ignored it at first, trying to continue reading her book- a Jane Austen novel that she was really enjoying- but the knocking only got more persistent.

"Yes?" Anne asked.

The door opened and Sherlock stepped into the room. He examined the room before sitting down on the bed besides Anne.

"Jane Austen?" asked Sherlock, "Do you like it?"

"I like the style of writing. The story is good." said Anne, "Why are you here?"

"Johns out and I'm bored." said Sherlock

"Where's John?" asked Anne

"I sent him out to talk to Mycroft about that case." said Sherlock

"Thank god, he started to text me." said Anne with a laugh.

It was quiet for a moment while Sherlock got up to get a book from the bookshelf. It was Anne's fake book. He sat back down on the bed and laid the book besides Anne.

"Can we talk?" asked Sherlock.

Anne looked at her hands. What was Sherlock going to say? Anne was angry with him that was for sure. He didn't have the right to control her. She wasn't a child anymore.

"Anne?" asked Sherlock trying to get her to respond

"I'm not a child anymore you know." said Anne trying to stay calm, "Did you send John off just so we could talk? Well I have news for you Sherlock, I can make my own decisions."

Anne enunciated every word in the last sentence. She didn't want to talk to Sherlock. She didn't need his advice. She didn't need his bloody sympathy. She didn't need anything from him.

"I disagree. Anne, we've been down this road before." said Sherlock reaching to hold her hand, "Its going to be alright you know? I can get you through this. John and I, we can help. I will always be there for you and I'm sure John would say the very same thing. You know, he's been my flat mate for a couple months now and he's never asked what I wanted for dinner."

Anne laughed through the tears that had begun to fall down her face.

"Sherlock," Anne squeezed his hand tighter, "Help me. I can't do this anymore."

"Come on, follow me." said Sherlock as he stood up and began to lead Anne out of the room. They walked downstairs into the living room and they sat down in the arm chairs, "You know the skull? He was an old friend. I lost him to drugs. I keep the skull here to remind me not to do down that road again. Perhaps if you came with John and I today for the case it would get you mind off of it. I'll be following John when he goes to investigate Mycrofts case. You can come with me."

"If you think it will help." said Anne

"Good. Why don't you get dressed and we can be off." said Sherlock

John arrived just as Anne was standing up.

"Anne? What's wrong?" asked John seeing her face

"Nothing she's just getting used to everything." said Sherlock quickly and smiling unconvincingly, "What did Mycroft have to say?"

"He said the man was twenty-seven, clerk at Vauxhall cross, MI6," John looked down at his notes, "He was involved in the Bruce-Partington Programme in minor capacity. Security checks were fine, no terrorist affinities or sympathies, and last seen by his fiancée at ten-thirty yesterday evening and he had an Oyster card but hadn't used it and no ticket on the body."

"Good, very good John. Before you investigate further, we have to stop at Scotland Yard." said Sherlock putting on his coat

"I'm investigating?" asked John

"Yes, I'm occupied at the moment." said Sherlock heading out the door, "Anne, ready to go?"

Anne came bounding down the stairs.

"Yes, where are we going?"

"Scotland Yard." said Sherlock heading down the stairs.

* * *

Sherlock was standing at the window, his hands steepled under his chin. Anne was sitting by John drinking a soda- Vimeo Zero Fizzy to be exact- the only soda she could really stand to drink.

"Told her to phone you. She had to read out from this pager." said Lestrade, he was explaining the set up of the bombers victim.

"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off." said Sherlock

"Or if you hadn't solved the case." said John

"Oh, elegant." muttered Sherlock

"Elegant?" asked Anne

"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?" asked Lestrade

"Oh, I can't be the only one who gets bored." said Sherlock

"You aren't the only one who gets bored." muttered Anne to herself.

* * *

Sherlock led the way into the office of the car rental. Anne was making jokes to herself about the whole situation. It seemed the only way to distract herself from what was really going on. In the back of her mind she was constantly planning escape routes and going through various what-if situations regardless of whether or not they were ridiculously far-fetched. She was trying her best not to reach out for John or Sherlocks hand, embarrassed even by the thought of it.

"Can't see how I can help you gentlemen." said the salesman who had introduced himself as Ewert. A strange name that was thought Anne.

"Mr. Monkford hired the car from you yesterday." said John

"Hello by the way." muttered Anne annoyed that she hadn't been acknowledged.

"Yeah, lovely motor. Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself." said Ewert

"Is that one?" asked Sherlock quickly glancing to look at the mans neck as he turned to look at the car Sherlock had pointed out.

"No, they're all Jags. Yeah, I can see you're not much of a car man, eh?" said Ewert

"But, ah, surely you can afford one- a Mazda, I mean." said Sherlock

"Yeah it's a fair point. But you know how it is- it's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the licorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" said Ewert

"But you didn't know Mr. Monkford?" asked John

"No he was just a client. Came in here and ordered one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod." said Ewert

"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewert?" asked Sherlock

"Eh?" responded Mr. Ewert

"You've been away, haven't you?" asked Sherlock

"Oh, the-the," Ewert motioned towards his face, "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it though, a bit of sun." Sherlock looked over at Anne and gave her a slight wink.

"Do you have any change, Sherlock? I'm just dying for a soda and I saw a vending machine outside." said Anne

"You've already had one today." said Sherlock clearly acting for Ewerts benefit, "I don't have any change anyway. Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?" Sherlock looked at Ewert.

"What?" asked Ewert

"Well, I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change." said Sherlock, "I'm gasping."

"No, sorry." said Ewert after looking in his wallet

"Oh well. Thank you for your time Mr. Ewert." said Sherlock, "You've been very helpful. Come on John, Anne."

"I've got change if you still want to, uh..." said John

"Tut tut Sherlock." chimed Anne

"Nicotine patches, remember. I'm doing well." said Sherlock grinning at Anne

"So what was that all about?" asked John

"I needed to look into his wallet." said Sherlock

"Why?" asked John

"Mr. Ewert is a liar. Anne, would you still like that soda?"

"No, I'm just fine." said Anne

* * *

Sherlock had solved the case of Janus Cars and Connie Price. Sherlock and John had gone out to investigate a case leaving Anne alone at Baker Street. Anne was lying on the couch in the living room feeling terribly alone and bored. She'd contemplated going down to see Mrs. Hudson but she didn't feel like even getting off the couch.

Anne studied the living room, looking at every dent in the wall and glancing through the titles on the bookshelf. She soon resigned her observations and closed her eyes. She sifted through the new information to see if anything caught her attention. Nothing did, so she lugged herself off the couch and stood up. She sauntered into the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea before going into Sherlocks room. She set the mug on his bedside table and turned on the light. The room was organized meticulously. She soon noticed the patterns in where the objects were.

The bed was in the center of the wall. The chair was at a precise fourty-five degree angle from the corner. The other forty-five degrees was occupied by a lamp centered in the angle. The desk was to the side of the bed on the far side of the room. It was the perfect distance from the lamp and the items on the desk were organized in accordance with the edges of the desk. Anne walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside there were a collection of suits, an extra belstaff coat, countless attire used for disguises and multiple drawers. She opened the first drawer to find three rows of socks meticulously folded. She opened the second drawer to find casual clothing also folded meticulously and for the purpose of using the least space possible. The third drawer Anne opened contained multiple notebooks. Anne was immediately intrigued. She took note of where each was and picked the first one up off the stack.

The notebook was light purple, Sherlock would say lilac, and the first page said _The First Casebook of Sherlock Holmes._ Anne turned the page and began to read a summary of the first case that Sherlock solved. After the summary there were a number of diagrams and illustrations of the crime scene alongside notes on the sides of the page. The second page contained a few lines of the solution to the crime. Underneath this small explanation was a numbered list of the steps Sherlock took to solve it. Anne sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the wardrobe unable to tear her eyes away from the notebook. She was reading the last page when she was aware of a figure standing over her.

"Nothing in the bookshelf interest you?" asked Sherlock in a harsh tone

"Sherlock," Anne read the last few lines of the page and carefully put the notebook back in the drawer before standing up to look at Sherlock, "I was bored and..."

"Sorry."

"Why did you go looking through my things?" asked Sherlock

"I didn't really. I didn't muss up anything else, but that notebook was just so interesting." said Anne

Sherlock looked at her for a moment before opening up the first two drawers in the wardrobe.

"Would you like any tea Sherlock?" asked Anne wanting a distraction from the guilt she was feeling

"Yes, please make some for John as well, it was a hard night." said Sherlock quietly.

Anne walked quickly into the kitchen and began to prepare the tea.

"You forgot you mug." said Sherlock setting the full mug of tea that was now cold on the counter before continuing into the living room.

* * *

Sherlock opened the wooden journal to where the bookmark was placed. He started to write frantically.

What have I done? Anne is in my care and I've let her down. I'll help her. I'll get her well. I must. I'm the only person she's got. If I'm going to help her, I must set an example. That's the logical thing, the right thing. So, I must stop this. All of this. I'm bored that's all. I will have to find another way to alleviate this problem. -SH

* * *

John came to sit in his armchair across from Sherlock.

"We lost our man." said John

"And we'll never catch him again." said Sherlock

"Here's the tea," said Anne handing them their mugs, "Now, who wants to tell me the exciting and dangerous adventures you went on this evening."

"I'll explain," said Sherlock, "John will make it much more colourful than it really was."

"Sherlock, I really don't do that." said John

"I read your blog sometimes John." said Sherlock, "Anyway, we got a case. A murder of a guard from a museum. He was murdered by the Golem. The Golem kills his victims by strangling them. I then contacted my homeless network to track the Golem down and to find him. We found him and followed him to his destination. We then got into a fight with him, John saved my life, thank you," Sherlock nodded at John, "The Golem got away however and so we returned here. I'm going to the museum tomorrow. It must connect to the case somehow."

Anne was speechless. Sherlock had returned to his thinking position but Anne could tell he was worried. She wanted to thank John profusely for saving Sherlocks life but the words wouldn't come.

"We don't mean to scare you Anne, you shouldn't have to worry." said John

"Um, no," said Anne coming back from her thoughts, "I wanted to know. I'm just, um, thank you John."

"You don't have to thank me Anne. Now, how about we relax. Play some games, watch telly." said John

"Sounds good." said Anne turning on the television.

Anne and John played multiple rounds of operation and then tried chess but decided they weren't able to concentrate on the game. Sherlock remained thinking for the best half of the evening before joining them halfheartely in a game of operation. People's lives were on the line and they depended on Sherlock.


	10. Chapter 10

Possible triggers in this chapter.

* * *

 _Run. Fast. Faster. You're safe. I promise..._

The sound of a violin woke Anne from the dream. The colours had blended together, everything going too fast...

"Ah! Anne you're awake!" declared Sherlock from the living room

 _How did he know? Why did he have to know?_

Footfalls on the stairs were followed by a short knock on the door.

"Anne, get dressed, we have work to do!" announced Sherlock gleefully through the door.

 _Piss off, Sherl._

"I'll be ready in about ten minutes Sherl." said Anne _God shouldn't have said She-_

"Don't call me Sherl." said Sherlock interrupting Anne's thought

"Dually noted Sherl." said Anne

Anne pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater and got dressed, then pulled her hair into a ponytail before rushing down stairs.

"Here's a cup of tea." said Sherlock motioning to a cup of tea on the kitchen table by his microscope before heading into the living room.

"Morning Anne," said John from the living room, "We're going to that museum today."

"Yes, the paintings a fake. I just have to prove it." said Sherlock as he put on his scarf.

Anne gulped her tea, knowing they were leaving in five seconds.

"Ready to go then?" asked Sherlock putting his coat on with a flourish

"Five seconds exactly." muttered Anne looking at her watch, "Yes, I'm ready."

* * *

"It's a fake. It has to be." said Sherlock glancing from his phone to the painting and back again.

"That painting has been subjected to every test known to science." said the museum coordinator who had introduced herself as Miss. Wenceslas

"Then it's a very good fake then." said Sherlock, "You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?"

The woman turned to Lestrade, "Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?"

The pink phone rings from Sherlocks coat pocket.

"The painting is a fake." said Sherlock, "It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed. Oh, come on. Proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. I've solved it. I've figured it out. It's a fake. That's the answer. That's why they were killed. Okay, I'll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?"

"Ten." the voice announced from the phone

"It's a kid. Oh, god, it's a kid." said Lestrade

Anne inched closer to John.

"What did he say?" asked John

"Ten." replied Sherlock

"Nine." the child announced shakily

"Its a countdown. He's giving me time." said Sherlock as he scanned the painting

"Jesus." sighed Lestrade

"The painting is a fake, but how can I prove it? How? How?" said Sherlock

"Eight."

Sherlock turned on his heel to glare as Miss. Wenceslas, "This kid will die. Tell me why the painting is a fake. Tell me!"

"Seven."

"No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if I figure it out. Must be possible. Must be staring me in the face." Sherlock muttered

John had begun pacing under the tension. Anne was standing frozen mentally counting down to the next announcement of time left.

"Six."

"Come on." John muttered as he rejoined his place next to Anne, she inched slightly closer to his side.

"Woodbridge knew, but how?" Sherlock said as he frantically began studying the painting.

"Five."

"It's speeding up!" said Lestrade, Anne finally gave in and reached out to grab Johns hand.

"Sherlock." John said his name quickly before squeezing Anne's hand slightly

"Oh!" Sherlock declared

"Four."

"In the planetarium! You heard it too. Oh, that is brilliant! That is gorgeous!"

"Three."

Sherlock shoved the pink phone into Johns hand.

"What's brilliant? What is?" asked John

"This is beautiful. I love this." said Sherlock

"Two."

"Sherlock!" Lestrade nearly shouted his name in frustration

"Van Buren Supernova." said Sherlock into the phone

"Please. Is somebody there?" asked the boy on the phone, "Somebody help me!"

"There you go." Sherlock said to Lestrade, "Go find out where he is and pick him up."

* * *

"Sherlock. You scared Anne half to death." said John through his teeth as they walked to get a cab.

"Yes, so sorry Anne." called Sherlock over his shoulder, before continuing to John, "I solved it but what should I do about Anne? She's in the middle of all this. That call, the kid, was for her."

"Jesus." The cab arrived and John got in followed by Sherlock and Anne.

"Glad you solved that one Sherlock." said Anne absent mindedly

"I'm sorry.." Sherlock paused a bit, "That you're dragged into all this."

"Well, I have always loved the thrill of the chase and all that." said Anne

Sherlock hummed in response and began researching on his phone.

* * *

John had gone to the crime scene of the case Mycroft had been bugging the residents of Baker Street about. Sherlock and Anne has continued on to Scotland Yard to speak to Miss. Wenceslas.

"You know, it's interesting. Bohemian stationary, an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss. Wenceslas. This whole case has a distinctly Czech feel about it. Is that where this leads?"

Sherlock had assumed his thinking position while Lestrade spoke to Miss. Wenceslas, but it was his turn to ask his questions now. Anne sat in the corner drinking a frankly terrible cup of coffee, however the caffeine was necessary at this point given the nonstop pace of the case.

"What are you looking at, Inspector?" inquired Sherlock in lieu of Miss. Wenceslas's answer to his first question.

"Well, um, criminal conspiracy, fraud, accessory after the fact at least. The murder of the old woman, all the people in the flats.."

"I didn't know anything about that!"

It was the first time Miss. Wenceslas had spoken in five minutes and the panic in her voice caught Annes attention.

"All those things! Please believe me! I just wanted my share, my thirty million. I found a little old man in Argentina. Genius. I mean really, brushwork immaculate, could fool anyone."

"Hm."

Sherlock gave the sarcastic response to the outburst.

"Well, nearly anyone. But I didn't know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea- a spark which he blew into a flame."

"Who?" asked Sherlock sharply.

"I don't know. It's true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was put in touch with people... his people."

Sherlock sat up a bit straighter and fixed Miss. Wenceslas with an intent gaze, focused on what she was saying.

"Well, there was never any real messages... whispers."

"And did those whispers have a name?" asked Sherlock becoming more intense.

"Moriarty."

* * *

Miss. Wenceslas had been interviewed further by Lestrade but Sherlock had remained in the office think for fifteen minutes after asking his questions. Anne had gotten a second cup of coffee and had received a call from an uuknown number which she found had been Mycroft inquiring on the case.

"Anne, we had better tail John now. He should be going to the site of the crime now. Let's go." said Sherlock, abruptly getting up and leading the way to the street and into a cab.

The cab arrived at the train station and after Sherlock had paid the cabbie- and Anne heard him mutter a quiet 'that's a proper cabbie'- the came round to the crime scene and Sherlock motioned for her to be quiet, but they both were silently in hysterics at creeping up on John.

"Right, so, uh, Andrew West got on the train somewhere- or did he? There's no ticket on the body. Then how did he end up here?" John was saying as they came within hearing distance

"Points." says Sherlock cracking a grin and causing Anne to laugh quite loudly.

"Yes!" exclaimed John

"Knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here, that's why there was so little blood." said Sherlock

"How long have you two been following me?" asked John glaring at Anne who was still laughing

"Since the start. You didn't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you?" asked Sherlock, "Come on, got a bit of burglary to do."

* * *

They had found the man who killed Andrew West and had got him to Scotland Yard, all the while Anne sat quietly to the side letting the duo do their work. She watched it all but didn't participate simply because she didn't want to interfere. Sherlock had asked her multiple questions about the case, all of which, to her happiness, she got right. After this they returned to Baker Street and Anne stayed up with Sherlock after John had left to go to Sarah's, and joined him in correcting the television.

"Anne, I've got to go out to solve the next part of the case. You have to stay here, considering it will probably be dangerous. I'll be back around two in the morning I suppose." said Sherlock quickly as he put on his coat and scarf. He then bounded down the stairs before Anne could protest.

It was all for the better though, she thought, because she hadn't had a hit in over twelve hours and it was all she could do to not completely dissolve into shakes. The first problem however, was finding were Sherlock had put it. He must have a supply around here somewhere, right? He must have some just in case, right? So, where would it be? If I were Sherlock were would I put it?

"You know the skull? He was an old friend. I lost him to drugs..." Sherlocks words echoed in her mind.

The skull, of course! Anne crossed the room and picked up the skull from the mantle place. She turned it over and found that the bottom could be removed. She removed it and emptied its contents on to the floor. She had predicted correctly and now had enough to last at least a month. She picked up a baggie and put it into her pocket before putting the rest back inside the skull and replacing the bottom and returning the skull to its place on the mantle. The boys would be out for another three hours at least which gave her plenty of time. She ran up to her room and grabbed her back pack from beside the chair in the corner. She opened it up and unbuttoned the lining she had unstitched. She pulled out a syringe and mixed a solution with the cocaine from the baggie. She release the mixture in her blood stream and laid back on the floor, letting the initial high wash over her.

After the high had passed, she replaced the cap on the needle and place it and the baggie into the lining of her backpack and zipped it back up.

Much better, she thought. Now what shall I do?

Anne had an unlimited amount of energy now and nothing was bothering her anymore. The clock alerted her it was one in the morning and she had already done two chemistry experiments, read a book on psychiatry, and hacked into Johns email. Nothing of interest, just boring romantic emails and news alerts. Anne decided it was probably a good idea then to go up to her room and grabbed a few books from the bookshelf and found herself in the middle of a blanket fort in her room. She heard the front door close at three in the morning followed by the voices of John and Sherlock. Footsteps fell on the stairs leading up to her room, quickly followed by nothing more than a single knock before Sherlock appeared in her room, grinning maniacally.

"Wrapped the case up then?" asked Anne from the middle of her blanket fort.

"As wrapped up as those blankets." said Sherlock before adding amusedly, "Can I join you after John goes to bed?"

"Yeah you can join me, but you have to tell me what happened on the case." said Anne getting up to head down to the living room.

"It was rather surprising actually." said Sherlock as they went down the stairs, "I- We actually, met Moriarty, or I should say the consulting criminal Moriarty. I'd already met him down at the lab. He's Molly's boyfriend. Good thing I told her to call that off."

Sherlock continued to tell her all of what happened while they drank tea.

"Good he got another offer." said Anne

"Thank god." said John

* * *

John soon chrashed in his chair and Anne and Sherlock went into their agreed arrangement in the fort.

"What did you do while we were out, I mean, other than making this fort." asked Sherlock

"I did two experiments. I completed your with the thumbs by the way. It takes approximately a week before all the blood with dry up in a constantly running microwave." said Anne

"I'm glad you kept busy then. However your results are wrong. It's actually a week and a half." said Sherlock.

* * *

I apologize that this took so long to update. I couldn't get this chapter right and I don't really like this version, but it's about the best at the moment. I'll try to update more regularly. Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! They always make me smile!


	11. Chapter 11

Possible triggers in the chapter.

* * *

It had been twenty four hours into the detox. Sherlock was pacing the flat, asking how Anne was doing every ten minutes.

"How do you feel?" asked Sherlock, "Can I get you anything? I'll get you a glass of water. I think you need to keep hydrated and you should probably take a shower before you're unable to."

"Yeah, I'll take a shower." said Anne getting up from the sofa and heading into the bathroom.

Sherlock waited for a bit to make sure she had gotten in the shower before doing another hit.

 _We can't both detox at the same time, can we? I'll get her clean, then I'll get clean. That's the plan. That's logical._

Anne came out of the shower a while later and went back to the sofa to lay down. She felt vaguely like she should vomit and she needed some. God, she needed some.

"Sherlock, you got the stuff. Gimme." said Anne looking up at Sherlock

"No." replied Sherlock

"I need it. Now." said Anne

"No." said Sherlock

"You're a bloody hypocrite." said Anne, "You just had some so-"

The beginning of her tyrade was cut off by her barely leaning over fast enough to vomit into the pot by the sofa. She vomited for a while, her stomach aching from the purging and her throat burning, before sitting up and burning her head in her hands. Sherlock was on the sofa next to her, holding her gently next to him.

"It's okay. It's all okay. Are you alright? Do you need some water?" asked Sherlock

"First of all, mister I-am-attempting-to-help, it's NOT okay, I'm NOT alright, and for the last bloody time I don't need _water,_ I need drugs!" shouted Anne

Sherlock didn't reply, only held her more tightly to his side, gently rocking her to calm her down.

* * *

"A week and a half?" asked Anne

"Yes. I did get a degree in chemistry, so I believe I've got the correct time." replied Sherlock looking intently at the ceiling from his place in the blanket fort.

"Yeah, yeah. So," said Anne changing the subject before Sherlock went on a Chemistry rant, "Do you know what Moriarty has planned?"

"What he has planned? No." said Sherlock, "He got an offer from someone, a higher offer, but I don't know from whom."

"Burn the heart out of you, did he say?" asked Anne, "What did he mean?"

"I told him I've been reliably informed that I don't have a heart," Sherlock laughed, "He said that's not quite true. He meant John. He-"

Sherlock stopped abruptly and turned to look at Anne.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" asked Sherlock

"Sure..." said Anne

"I'll bring it up then. Just give me a moment." said Sherlock before getting up and heading down stairs.

He turned the kettle on and went into the living room. He took the skull from the mantle and removed the bottom, counted the number of items in it, replaced the bottom and put it back in its place on the mantle. It was short by a count of one.

He returned to the kitchen to finish making the tea. He put the usual two sugars into both their cups of tea, and carried the mugs of tea back to Anne's room.

"Two sugars." said Sherlock

"Thanks."

"What have you been doing the last two years?" asked Sherlock

"I got a job for a bit, but I couldn't go back to my parents, so, then things got bad. I was scared, you know. So, I went back to the doss houses. Got fired, but by that time I didn't care. However I didn't have money any more for enough drugs. I tried a few more times to get jobs doing odds and ends but no one would hire me. I went to library and found your website and your address. Then I worked up the courage to come here." said Anne

Sherlock didn't respond. He was working through the vague timeline in his head. She was never clean, was she? Your deduction was wrong. Sherlock thought to himself.

"Isn't one self destructive habit enough?" asked Sherlock

"You tell me." said Anne

" _One_ is too much, Anne." said Sherlock

"And I've got two." mumbled Anne, "You noticed."

"Did you think I wouldn't? That's an addicts thought." said Sherlock, "Which one do you want to deal with first?"

"Neither. I've lived this long. Leave me alone." said Anne

"Well, in that case, you'll be up all night so, if you want to keep talking come downstairs." said Sherlock getting up from the floor.

"You need to sleep, Sherlock." said Anne

"I need to think." said Sherlock

"No, you really don't." replied Anne.

* * *

The light streamed into the living room windows as the sun rose. Anne stood in the middle of the living room, having stopped her pacing for a minute to observe the shadows the sun cast in the room. She was the only one up and she was enjoying the quiet. There was no pressure. Just herself. There were people close but right now, it was just her and her thoughts, and that was what she loved.

The clock struck six and John came into the living room.

"You're up early, Anne." said John

"Yeah, I'm not exactly regular in my sleeping habits."

"God, are you sure you aren't Sherlock? It's like I've got two of you." said John

"Two Sherlocks? Good luck." said Anne

"Thanks," said John sarcastically, "Do you want coffee or tea?"

"I'll have coffee. Thanks." said Anne, following John into the kitchen.

"So, I was curious, how did you get into the bombs?"

"Well, I was knocked out on my way to Sarah's, brought to the swimming pool, and had the bombs on me when I came to. I was under the control of Moriarty then."

"If you didn't say what he told you, you would get blown up."

"Exactly." said John, "So, um, breakfast?"

"I'm not really a person who eats breakfast." said Anne

"That's not healthy, you know." said John

"Everyone always says that, but I've always been just fine." said Anne

"Sorry, doctor speaking." John laughed

"Yeah." said Anne giggling a bit. "Say, Sherlock didn't sleep that whole case. Do you want to bet on how long he'll sleep?"

"I'm betting, he'll wake up at noon." said John

"Five in the evening." said Anne

"Five bucks, whoever is closer." said John.

They shook on the bet.

Eleven hours later, John handed Anne a five dollar bill, when Sherlock came out of his bedroom before crashing on the sofa, fell back asleep and began to snore loudly.


	12. Chapter 12

Forty-eight hours into the detox and Anne was on the living room sofa, while Sherlock made repeated calls to Mycroft, who was not picking up.

"That bastard!" said Sherlock, "When I need he isn't there."

"I'm fine, I don't need the British government to help me." said Anne as she tossed and turned on the sofa.

A minute ago she had been curled up in a ball, in tears from the pain and now she couldn't keep still and she was shaking terribly.

"Fine? No, you're not fine." said Sherlock trying to ring Mycroft again, "You need a sedative or something. You're too young and not strong enough to be doing this, this way."

"Yes, because different drugs help to get off other drugs." said Anne

"Do you want tea?" asked Sherlock

"Fine." said Anne, "Could you get me another blanket? I'm freezing."

Sherlock got another blanket for her, she already had three on her, but she was still cold.

"Here you go, I'll get your tea." said Sherlock, ringing Mycroft again as he walked to the kitchen

"Finally you answer. Listen, I need your help. I've got a girl here, she's twelve, and she's detoxing. Yes, getting clean... No, Mycroft, it isn't my fault. Just get something to help her... What do you mean you can't?! You're the bloody British government. Fine." said Sherlock hanging up and tossing the phone back to his chair.

"He said he can't get you anything." said Sherlock

"Brilliant brother you have." said Anne sarcastically buring herself further under the pile of blankets.

"He'll probably come over though, just to antagonize me." said Sherlock

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Haven't been here before. Where's this girl you told me about?" asked Mycroft when Sherlock answered the door

"She's in the living room." said Sherlock

Mycroft came into the living room and sat down on the table across from Anne.

"Mycroft Holmes." said Mycroft extending his hand

"Anne." said Anne shaking his hand weakly

"I'm aware that my brother has told you that I have quite a lot of power, however I am afraid that is far from true. I am unable to help him and will not be able to help you. I'm sorry." said Mycroft

"Shut up." said Sherlock, who was leaning on the door frame into the living room, his pupils blown up to twice their normal size.

"Not the best role model are we, brother mine?" asked Mycroft as he got up

"Bye, bye." said Sherlock pointing to the door

"Nice meeting you, Anne." said Mycroft, "Always wonderful to see you, Sherlock."

He walked out the door, which Sherlock slammed behind him.

"Sorry Anne." said Sherlock

"Not your fault." said Anne

 _I wish that was true._

* * *

Sherlock was twelve. By this time, his parents had decided it was better all the way around if he was homeschool and he was currently doing intense study in physics and rarely came out of his room. Mycroft was away at college and Sherlock missed him more than he would ever admit. Occasionally Mycroft would call to talk but even then it wasn't the same. There was a distant tone in his voice, colder than it had ever been before. Today was a different day however, Sherlock had decided to come out of his room for the first time in three days and went straight out into the backyard. It was a cold, overclouded day, but Sherlock took up his usual place in the tallest tree in the backyard. From on the histest branch he could get to, he could see over the entire backyard and the top of his house. He loved it up here, alone and silent. Left alone to sort out his thoughts, to bring them down to slower level of processing. Soon enough he had dispelled all thoughts about Mycroft and was peacefully observing the clouds as they moved across the sky.

"Sherlock, dear," called Violet from below, "I saw your trainers were gone. I made your favorite for lunch. Mince pies and ginger nuts."

Sherlock climbed down a few branches before jumping to the ground in front of his mum.

"Hi, dear." said Violet, "Taking a break from your research?"

"Got bored."

"I see. Would you like to play a few games? Since, it's just the two of us today."

"Operation?"

"Of course!"

* * *

John and Anne were watching crap telly when Sherlock woke up.

"Cases?" asked Sherlock getting up and rudely turning off the television.

"We were watching that." protested Anne

"Boring, predictable, and it can't be good for your brain." said Sherlock, "Cases, _John_?"

John checked his phone, "Nothing on the website."

Sherlock picked up his violin, his annoyance _very_ clear. The next hour was spent wincing from Johns room when Sherlocks screeching notes sounded through the walls.

"Big baby." muttered Anne

"Yeah, gunshots, violin concerto at terrible hours. He's living up to what he told me when I met him. All but not talking." said John

"Not talking? He said _that_?" asked Anne

"Quote 'Sometimes I don't talk for days on end'." replied John, Anne laughed at this.

"Hey, listen." said Anne, the terrible screeching had turned into a pensive composition.

"Thank god." said John, "Christ." He muttered causing Anne to laugh again.


End file.
